Alone
by Fandomness
Summary: After losing the Ponds to the Angels the Doctor spends a sad and lonely night reminiscing. Regretting the things he had never done and wishing he could go back to when it all began and get it right.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it. All rights where they're due.**

_'Don't be alone Doctor.'_

The Doctor stared at the crinkled page clutched in his hand. Unfolded for the umpteenth time in the last two hours. Staring at those words, reading them over again and again. 'Don't be alone...' If she knew what she was asking... if she knew the pain her words would inflict, would she have written them anyway? Yes. They all did. All of them. It was a command that seemed to echo through his life. 'Don't be alone. Find someone. You need someone with you.' They were all the same, and everyone told him, no matter how well they knew him, no matter for how long, the demand was the same. Don't be alone.

What if he wanted to be alone? Shouldn't he get a say? It was his life wasn't it? He actually chuckled a bit at that, despite the empty place in his chest. Because it wasn't, really... He'd never had much say, there was always someone or something telling him what to do, telling him how things should go. Oh he put up a good bluff. 'I'm the Doctor I'm in charge of the universe.' Ha! More like the universe was in charge of him. Always had been. His life was ruled by circumstance, the circumstance of the universe. He'd never really decided anything had he? It had all been circumstance. Showing up at a certain time, in a certain place, meeting a certain person, hearing a certain bit of chatter.

He'd made a show of trying to control things, tried to stay away from people and their feelings and 'domestics', tried not to marry River, tried to rewrite history for the good of everyone. He'd been stumped every time. It made him wonder sometimes what he'd done to get the universe to hate him. And then he'd remember. 'Oh, that's right. I killed the Time Lords...'

He heard the Tardis thrum at him, trying to wake him up, trying to entice him to go to places and times he'd already been four times at least. She rolled out tables of fish fingers and custard, entreating him to eat, which usually meant he'd been sitting for a few days without moving... for a Lord of Time it had a funny way of getting away from him. He supposed he ought to eat something... if only for the sake of appeasing his old ship...he lurched up right, swaying over to the offering of food. But... he just... didn't want to eat... wasn't in the mood for fish fingers, didn't want to sit through the memories their taste would stir. Didn't want to think of a dingy little table strewn with bread and cold bacon, sitting across from a little girl and her tub of ice cream. Or being sandwiched between a warm and familiar pair of bodies on a comfortable couch chatting about york shire pudding and days way past.

He didn't really want to think of anything, to be honest. Not the past, not the future, his friends or his enemies, or all the things he'd suffered from because of them. He wanted...for this moment, just this one moment as long as the universe would allow him, to be happy. To think of happy things and not have to hide behind frivolous thoughts, not have to wear the mask he put on for everyone, including himself. He wanted to have memories that didn't burn through his chest with every careless revisiting. Wanted to be able to hum or whistle without using it as a shield against his own heartache.

He wanted to feel like he had nine hundred years ago, back when he'd taken Susan to school and meeting Ian and Barbra had been strange and forbidden and sharing the universe with humans was new and exciting and didn't promise to end with pain and loss. Wanted to go back to the end of the war and die with the rest of his people like he should have... wanted to sod off and leave the universe to fend for itself. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. Not only would the universe forbid it, but so would the guilt... and the people he would think of as he let the world burn.

It was about then that he noticed that he'd been wandering. He had a habit of doing that he noticed, when he was thinking too hard... and unfortunately he'd wandered to a place he'd been avoiding for the last three centuries. A place he'd thought the Tardis had hidden from him for good after the first six months, after he'd told Rose good bye. He folded himself around the pain that erupted in his chest at the thought of her. Tears flowed instantly down his cheeks at the memory of her good bye, her choice, each gasp of breath sent new flutterings of pain through his arms, his fingers, the very tips of his toes.

Rose. His Rose Tyler. Except she wasn't, had never been. Even then the universe was conspiring against him. Even then Canary Wharf and Bad Wolf Bay were waiting unseen in his future. He ran a hand down the door, imagining the scent of Rose Tyler still lingered on the wood. Imagined that she was sleeping in there, tangled in her sheets, exhausted after a good adventure. Imagined, for a fraction of a moment, that he was a happier man decked out in pinstripes and trainers, that Pet€e's world was nothing but a world beyond the void and not the final resting place of his centre of gravity. His Rose Tyler. Imagined for that moment, that she was his Rose Tyler, that the universe was going to leave her for him, give him their forever together, give him the time to work up to the words that really would have saved his life. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against the door, imagining for a moment that she could here him, that it wasn't too late.

"I love you Rose Tyler." he drew in a long breath, holding himself tighter against the wood. "I love you." he could taste the salt of his own tears against his lips as he tried to pull away, tried to let go, again, and fade back into the mad man he was supposed to be. But he couldn't. His hand had fastened to the knob and wouldn't let go. He'd told Amelia Pond that he had never had cravings before...rule one. How often had he craved Rose Tyler? Craved her touch, her smell, some small taste of her pink lips, craved the very sight of her? Even now. Standing outside a room that hadn't been opened for longer then his eleventh body had been alive he yearned for her. Yearned for the feel of her hand in his, the pressure of her body against his chest as they held each other, that glorious musical sound of her laugh as they ran together through the dangers of distant worlds. More then anything he yearned to bring his lips down against hers, as he had never allowed himself, and revel in the sensation of her mouth on his as his hands tangled in hair that was softer then the silks of Persia, and he whispered a litany of hidden feelings, told her everything he ever should have in a deluge of desperate words. How he needed her, treasured her, worshipped her, how he loved her more then the universe!

The creaking of the door as it opened slowly brought him from his regretful longings and he stared teary eyed at what had once been his second favorite place in all the known galaxies, aside from the console room itself, Rose Tyler's bedroom.

It looked exactly as it had after the battle of Canary Wharf, after he'd lost her the first time. Laundry thrown over the bed posts and scattered across the floor, her blankets rumpled, pillows crooked, a book lying open on top of them, magazines spilling from under the bed. His feet made no sound as he drifted further into the room. Posters of twentieth century pop stars covered the majority of the walls, the cupboards were open on the entertainment centre, the DVD screen saver still going, an empty plastic case lying open and empty atop the radio. The loo door stood gaping, a long evening dress hanging down it's front, tiny sequins flashing. _That's right. He'd promised her a fancy dinner that night. Promised to take her dancing on Venus during the migration of the Venusion Fire Bird. Promised she could wear her heels because nothing would go wrong. No running, no enemies, just the two of them, a few flutes of Venusion champagne, the open sky, stars, and the flashing gossamer colors of the Fire Birds in wing. _He shook his head, running a hand through his drying eyes, just another in a long line of broken promises. Just another Barcelona.

"Rose... oh, Rose, I was going to show you so much." he turned beseeching eyes to the ceiling, though what he was asking for he couldn't be sure. He stumbled to the bed, kicking free of his shoes and tearing away his tweed and bow tie, suddenly feeling more exhausted then he had in twelve hundred years. He curled into a ball in the centre of that empty room, burying his nose into sheets that no longer smelled of anything but dust and empty space, silent tears running down his face even after sleep had claimed him.

**More? Or is this more of a one shot? I have an idea to turn it into a multi-chapter story. You tell me what you think. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Due to popular demand, here it is! The second chapter of my now multi-chapter story! Yay! I hope you enjoy it as much as you did the first! The mood has lightened up a bit, hope that's okay. Feel free to continue to tell me what you think! If there is anything you think would work with the story that you would like me to try and incorporate, PM me and I will do my level best. Enjoy!**

The Doctor started awake, hand half raised as Rose Tyler blinked out of existence. The Angel's touch trapping her in a forbidden decade of New York history. Gone forever. Again. Her voice still rang in his ears, far off and distant, exactly as he remembered it.

"Doctor?"

So close.

"Doctor!"

A bit too close…

Running a hand threw his tangled hair he tried to blink away the delusions of sleep, the sheets of Rose Tyler's bed still warm against his belly.

"You there? Doctor!"

But it couldn't be sleep. That- He attempted to twist around to the door, blinking in utter confusion. And fell reeling to the floor. Scrabbling quickly upright he strained his ears. He could hear muffled steps, the muted clank of feet against the metal and glass of the console floor.

"River?" He hazarded, taking another swipe at his bangs. He didn't expect a reply and he wasn't disappointed. His heart thundering guiltily in his chest the Doctor forced himself to the door, offering the room one last caress farewell. Knowing he could never return, knowing his mangled hearts would never survive it. "Lock it up old girl. For good this time." He tried to look admonishing only to manage a blank sadness. The Tardis gave a soft whir and he heard the lock click. Hanging his head and fighting the sudden onslaught of broken regret he went to find out who was in his Tardis.

{_]

"Hello? Someone there?" He trotted up the ramp, a mangled smile pushing up the corners of his mouth. "Is that you R-" The false cheer melted from his face, the bottom fell out of his stomach and his heart leaped up into his throat, and tears he didn't know he had left burned at the back of his eyes. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak, he couldn't wrap his mind around the delusion in front of him. The weight of three hundred years of yearning and loneliness fell against his shoulders, nearly toppling him to his knees.

Because there she was. Where he would never see her again. Should never see her again. Could never see her again. Not unless the universe was burning. She hadn't seen him yet; she was looking around the console room, frowning, a set of slim yellow headphones covering her ears. Exactly as he remembered her. That familiar jean jacket, bright swishy skirt, knee length boots; slightly scuffed about the toes, her hair, her gorgeous beautiful, blonde hair; still smelling warmly of coconut done up in a pair of pig tails like he'd never told her he loved. His Rose.

He wanted to speak, wanted to draw her head around and get swept up by those rich, chocolate brown eyes, so filled with joy and compassion and life! God he'd missed those eyes, the dimples her smiles caused, that tongue in teeth smile that never failed to put a grin on his face. But he didn't want to ruin it. To break the illusion and find out that she wasn't there at all, that his mind had started playing the games he thought he'd left behind in his tenth body. That it was nothing more than a daydream.

He gulped, attempting to raise an arm to give his hair another anxious tug, his knuckles knocked against the railing. The quiet clang ricocheting through the silence. He watched Rose jump, spinning to look at him, pushing the headphones from her ears, half a smile already formed on her face, until she saw him standing there.

"Oh."

The little sound of disappointment nearly broke him, his hearts tripping around in his chest as their pieces clattered to the bottom of his ribcage. Neither spoke for what felt like an eternity to the Time Lord, though it was closer to 18 seconds, and then a fluttering smile found its way back onto Rose's face and she took a tentative step forward.

"Hello."

The Doctor's mouth opened for the fraction of a moment and then slowly slid closed again. Rose reached up to twirl her fingers through the bangs overshadowing her eyes, teeth tugging at her lip. The Doctor watched avidly, starting to feel the trembles running through him.

"Sorry. I don't mean to be rude 'er anythin' but… who are you?" She looked at him in concern, her teeth still sunk into her lip as her hand kept the hair from her face. One of the Doctor's fingers twitched but it seemed to be the only movement he was capable of.

"Righ'… are you alrigh'? You 'spose to be in here? I mean, does the Doctor know yer' here?" She gave him a moment to answer. He didn't. Though he did manage to blink. Which she thought might have been an improvement. She took another small step towards him, casting a glance down one of the main archways, the concern never leaving her face. Going as close as she seemed to dare she studied him, tilting her head this way and that, taking in his shock wide eyes and still chest. "However you got here must have givin' you one hell of a scare, hey?" She smiled a little wider, her tongue between her teeth and his gut twisted painfully. "Seem harmless enough. You alrigh'?"She reached a hand to touch him and only then did the Doctor recover his ability to move, twisting away from her outstretched limb with a strangled choking noise.

For the second time that day he became the enemy of gravity and fell flailing wildly with many an inarticulate noise down the ramp. Landing splayed at the bottom, standing up again with all the swiftness and dignity of an insulted cat. Rose stood unmoved, gawping down at him and fighting not to burst into a fit of the giggles. Rallying his pride and wishing for his bow-tie and his tweed, he leveled Rose the best Oncoming Storm look he could muster.

Because that couldn't be Rose. Of course it couldn't. It couldn't. No matter how much he wished it was, no matter how much it looked, and acted, and _smelled _like Rose it could never, _ever, _be her. It was just the universe, having another go at him, taking another piece of him and demanding more. Because that couldn't be her. And if it wasn't her, that meant it was something else. And since it was him, it wasn't something nice. He didn't want to think what it could be, didn't want to look at Rose, the woman he- didn't want to see the face he'd been missing and craving and dreaming of for longer then he dared to remember, and have to think of… dreaming it was bad enough, dreaming it was worse. Worse than anything he'd suffered through, no matter how many times it happened, no matter how often… every nightmare scraped at him, hollowed him out a little more until he wasn't sure there was any of the goodness she'd built in him left. Didn't know how far the charade had gone, until he was fooling himself. Didn't know if there was any of the madman in a box he professed to be truly inside him, or if it was all simply a thin veneer to fool himself into thinking he wasn't the broken solider he had been when he'd first met her. That he was better now. That he still remembered how to be the good guy.

Scraping together his resolve he stalked up the ramp, fighting to keep his glower fixed, barging as close to her- it, as he dared. The scent of tropics, and chips grease, and tea wafted around him, threatening to loosen his muscles and tempting him with lungful after lungful of sweet smelling air. Rose watched him with a wary eye, raising one arched brow.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" He watched both her eyebrows jump to her hairline, swallowing softly as anger flushed her face, and her eyes snapped and sparked.

"I asked first." She retorted calmly, crossing her arms and pulling her face into a familiar scowl.

"No. No. You don't get to play these games! Not with her, not today! Now tell me what you are." He refused to touch her. It. Every second tested his restraint.

"Look mate, I don't know who you think you are but if the Doctor finds you in 'ere-"

"I _am_ the Doctor." He kept his voice low and dangerous, his back painfully straight. Her face twisted in confusion, his muscles jumped desperate to touch her, soothe her.

"No…" Her voice was slow. "You can't be. I was just with him. He can't have regenerated. There's nothing that dangerous on the Tardis." She backed away from him, her eyes tracing every line of the console room. Her hands tangled in her hair, she fretted at her lip.

"Don't play with me." He forced a menacing step. "Tell me who you are!"

She turned back to him, her eyes flashing in defiance.

"If you were the Doctor you'd know who I am. But you can't _be _the Doctor because I was just talking to 'im, so who are ya? How'd you get into the Tardis, and what've you done to 'er?"

"I am the Doctor, this is my Tardis, and I really don't appreciate monsters popping on board and impersonating my friends! So, either you tell me who you are and what you want, or you pop off again. But whatever you are I am warning you, if you don't change out of Rose's face right now, I won't be responsible for what happens next."

They stared at each other without a word, the Doctor radiating angry defiance, the thing that couldn't be Rose blank with shock. The thing that wasn't Rose was the first to move, walking up to him slowly, while he fought the instinct to lash out or pull her close. She kept coming closer and closer until he could see the uncertain tears in her eyes. He wavered. She drew in a shuddering breath, her hand coming up into the peripheral of his vision before resting gently against his cheek. He flinched. He almost broke.

"Doctor?" Her breath fanned across his face and he shuddered, leaned toward her, failed to tear himself away. Something that sounded like a sob found a way from her throat, and her other hand came up to cradle his jaw. "Oh God, Doctor." Her fingertips dug into his skin, her scent assailed his nose, her presence crawled its way into the hole in his chest. He was so close. So close to breaking and crushing her into his chest. To tearing away from reality and reveling in the dream attempting to ensnare him. "What happened to you?" She shook her head, horror struck her features and she stumbled back. "What happened to me? Why can't I be here?"

The fear in her eyes undid him, he broke at last, not caring if he was dreaming or crazy or just about to die. Only caring that Rose was there in front of him, within arm's reach and for this moment he didn't have to be separated from her. He could touch her and hold her and God why hadn't he done it sooner?

Rose let out a small squeak of surprise as his arms wrapped around her and he crushed her into his chest. Burying his face into the blonde locks of her hair, and breathing in the scent he had been missing for too long. He could feel her heart drumming against her chest, her strong frail human heart hammering the rhythm he had memorized so long ago against his ribs. She was here. Here. With him. And he would never let her go again. He didn't care if it was a dream. He was never waking up.

**R&R Please! Your reviews really keep me going!**


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